Mockingjay in the Wind
by Moonlight M3lody
Summary: Onesided Gale/Katniss. All he can do is to take care of her family, while she's battered and bruised, fighting to death in front of the entire nation. Snippets of Gale's thoughts during the first book.


Odds and favor. I should've learnt the limit of our luck under the Capitol. What the hell happened? This night is supposed to be a celebration. I've passed my reaping age and Katniss will only have two years to go. Then we'd both free and sometime then I'd confess my feelings, as no one could separate us anymore. Maybe she'll accept, maybe she'll not (In that matter, though, I must say I'm fairly confident). Either way, she's not supposed to march into this deathmatch. I fought hard to restrain the urge for volunteering, knowing that she'll only hate me for neglecting our families. With Posy still 5, I can barely leave them as is. Families are the only valuables we have, Katniss and I. However, at that second all I really want is to go along with her, protecting and fighting together (_Someone would take care of the children, so please let me go. Just go_). I'm sure we can make it to the end with our skills.

To rub salt to the wound, other than the baker's family and Katniss', I receive the second most of comforting words. Things like 'she'll be okay','she'll make it','I'm really sorry'-those craps. Perhaps they're being genuine, but it's not my brightest time. Everyone in the district knows. Gale and Katniss.

I never actually pay attention to the game. Sure, it's mandatory to watch, but since when Gale Hawthorne plays along with the rules? The amount of time we need to watch is absolutely ridiculous; better spent in meaningful activity like setting snares. We need food. The law to watch the game all day doesn't come with extra rations. Usually I and Katniss only watch one or two hours a day to avoid suspicion when the Peacekeepers patrol around. Then off we go to the woods.

But the past games never involve someone we actually know. Every time, we always exchange apologetic looks, feeling sorry for the two tributes and thanking them for giving us another year. Nothing too personal, just mere sympathy that lasts a day at most (To be fair, district 12's tributes do die in bloodbath almost in regular basis) Now it's my Catnip. My partner, my best friend, and my love. I begin to time my hunt, setting up more snares instead of hunting directly since I can check on them after the live show is over. This is difficult since I cut my time in the woods considerably, but at the same time I must provide food for Prim and Mrs. Everdeen too. Who knows how long I can get before we should adjust our already poor diet? Luckily past the rough first days, some people do help. Greasy Sae offers me higher trade value, and the baker now gives me twice as much for a skinny squirrel (as long as that witch isn't present, that's it). Townspeople generally like Prim, like Katniss' prediction. In the end, after much calculation I've worked on a new schedule so we can still survive and I can watch her.

When she makes her way to the stage, I can barely register my expression, hoping it not to be too ridiculous. But she's stunning. She doesn't belong to the gown, of course. Jeweled and stuffy and so not-Katniss, but that doesn't erase the fact she's strikingly lovely. On closer look I see that her skin is smoother, hair soft and silky.

The Katniss in my mind is not this flawless. She is proud of her calloused hands, the scrapes all over her body, all proving her strength, her will to survive. She's naturally charming with her hunter apparel she so fond of. Unlike this Katniss on stage, my Catnip is more real and vivid. That aside, I don't mind to have a chance of seeing her with the gown.

I laugh inwardly. Ironically, if someone ever gives her that kind of dress, chances are she'd sell it as soon as she could. A dress like that costs enough to feed our entire families for months.

I shake my head again when she begins to talk. She's good in keeping her emotions. I might've been fooled had I don't spend so much time with her. That smile. That tone. That twirling girl is not Katniss. She only smiles when she's in the woods. Only with me, for me. The only time I think I see the real her is when she talks about Prim (who is watching beside me, teary eyed). But it's quite impressive for the Capitol, I think. With their love to beautiful, shallow things, this Capitol-flavored Katniss would surely gain attention. But fire suits her. If she could get some sponsors, which I think she could, given her performance today and at the opening ceremony, she could make it home.

While I seriously doubt that baker boy's survival ability, he's good enough in wielding words. He knows what people expects, what the crowd wants and he plays it very, very well. I don't have any grudge on him; his family (sans his mother) is our frequent buyer. Save for I want it so badly that it's Katniss who's going home, which means I directly want him to be dead, I feel sorry for him. Hate the Games. Then he drops the bomb and I take back all my praises to him.

What did I just hear? I know from the way he fawns at her that he's nothing sort of innocent. That he too realizes her charm. But this is barely the time to say it. I don't know whether he does it out of spontaneity, that this might be his last chance, or to win more audience's hearts, or both. Regardless of its effect to Katniss' popularity, I hate his interview. Katniss is surely on my side, judging from her looks. No good. The last thing she needs is distraction. How she manages to bring herself kills someone who hadn't just saved her life, but now confessing his love to her in front of the entire nation?

I clench my fist in frustration, stopping my groan midway when I notice Prim and Rory are gazing at me, agape. I should keep my emotion in check if I want to keep watching this together with them. Both my mother and Katniss' mom are unable to watch. They're afraid they might lose control and cry. That's the last thing we need, more people to console. Annoyingly, despite the awkward situations, I can't help but feeling that the gazes they give me aren't about the game. "I wonder how Katniss feels about that?" asks Prim, tugging on the end of her blouse.

Mad, of course.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

Go, Katniss. You can do it. To see her back in hunting outfit is comforting. Apparently it does for her too, as she gains back her confidence. Just another hunt. During the 60 seconds countdown, the camera swifts past the tributes' close ups to an overview of this year's arena. Relief sweeps over my body. More than half is covered with woods. Our home, where she's herself. Strong and graceful and calculating and deadly. Katniss will gain an upperhand in her territory. As long as she doesn't do anything foolish and run once the Cornucopia turns into battlefield. She should know better.

Or not. I must admit that bow is so tempting and I did tell her to try to get her hand on it, but it's no use if she bets her life to get it. Her eager eyes lure some Careers. They notice how much she wants that, and move. Forget that bow, I curse inwardly. Run, run, run into the woods and you're safe.

-.-.-.-.

I know I'm being unfair. I did have my social life and while I've never kissed Katniss, I've lost count of how many kisses I had with the girls from school. Nothing special, just casual relationships, but that effectively means I've no right in...in condemning this. Katniss lets me have my own life outside the woods, and I should too. Frankly, I've never really mind what she does outside our time together. She never makes a big deal out of it too. That is, until I make it clear that I've never had anything more than casual relationship because I've pinned my feelings for her. I've taken our time together as granted; never really think of her as potential girlfriend. The Katniss who plans nothing in getting boyfriend, let alone getting married. Perhaps, that's why, I feel safe enough? That I never think about the possibility of someone else liking her because I'm the only boy she spends her time with? Who can blame me? We first met when she's still 12, and we spent so much time with one focus: survival. Anything else can wait. That point aside, theoretically, Katniss could kiss whoever she wants. My mind denies. It's not like I've ever actually kiss a girl in front of her. If I do, I wonder what would she do? Will it hurts her? Feeling betrayed? Like I now?

Positively thinking, what she is doing now is as fake as my kisses with those girls. I hope. I'm no fool. Katniss never appears interested to that sort of relationship, which is exactly why I restrain myself from her. It must be some sort of act to raise sympathy on her part. This is how you play the game. Make them bow to your favor. The boy, quite the contrary, is desperately lovesick. I know for sure he'd do what I want to do. Protect her, then die so she can come home safely. What I'm afraid is that she might soften. Despite her apparent coldness, Katniss' weakness is someone else's kindness. He is, afterall, her savior and we all have certain amount of fondness to people that save us. The constant kissing and cuddling don't help either.

Posy and Prim are my savior. They keep my conscience straight so I'm able to sort my priority. At least, when she comes home, she'd be happy that her family is well fed. The woods now become something of an escape. To clear my mind and recalling our days back there, assuring myself she'll come home and everything will be alright. Hearing the Mockingjays sing, swaying from branch to branch, I'm always reminded of her. So much for solace. I never hear her sing, and probably never will. Somehow though, I know it'll not be as easy as I want it to be.

Sometime within all this mess, I feel Catnip slipping out my hands. Her plans, her actions now confuse me. I used to be able to read just whatever she was about to do. That appears no longer be the case as days go on, Hunger Games changing both of us to unknown direction. Unfounded fear? I hope so. It hurts so much to see her with someone else, somewhere far away where I can't reach. She is flying up high, so high that even my arrow couldn't reach her.

That aside, ever since the cave scene being highlighted again and again, I drain all energy I conserve just to keep the nasty cursings at bay. We may be in the Games, but I know both my mother and Ms. Everdeen won't let me go spewing those words in front of the children. Their warning glares inform me as much as I want. The only medium to vent my anger is the woods. On the bright side, I do bring more games these past two days.

Oh, surely I never expect the end of Capitol's mercy. It's killing me slowly, with harder punch each day.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-

Down to top 8. I should be happy, if not for a horde of insane reporters barraging my house. The front door won't hold much longer. Mom is stressed enough to deal with those news hungry people. Rory seems like he would bite them if he can. Vick tries his best to distract them whenever I need to go to the woods. Posy? I decide sending her to Prim is the best. Judging on the situation, it's the best decision I ever made.

Apparently my constant avoidance irked them as much as they to me. Unable to risk our secret food source, the only secret keeping us alive being exposed, I confront the mass. Guess what? The last thing I expect is to be interviewed about my 'cousin'. What cousin? Surely the whole district knows that both mother and father don't have any siblings.

Oh, right. They are from the Capitol. Meaning whoever they refer to as my cousin is Katniss. Who's the genius with the joke? I do my best. Supressing my feelings. Saying unsubstantial things. Everything to keep the charade and ensuring the stream of donation keeps flowing to Katniss. Finally they're gone.

Until that day, I regard my resemblance to Katniss, our ordinary Seam appearance as something trivial, despite being appealing. We often talk that we can easily pass as family, what with our familiarity with each other and how we act as brother and sister too. But today, when they adress me as Katniss' cousin, all I can feel is pain.

_Don't worry_. _You do this so she can come back. Back to her family. Back to you._

My inner voice is comforting me, but deep down I feel the hatred. The anger. The jealousy. The sadness. Is this what I'd be from now on? Her cousin?

Suddenly dying in the Games feels so tempting.

Could you really blame anyone? I thank that boy because he has done everything he is able to do. I hate him for doing everything I want to do. Now they're coming back together. I'll wait for them at the Train Station. As her cousin, of course. I wonder how she will react to this. Somehow, it's as if we're distant. As if, beginning with the Reaping, we're actually reaped from our previous lives. How we're thrown from those days we hunt together. I could see it. Katniss moving in to the Victor's Village, along with him. Katniss not needing to hunt every single day. Katniss with pains she couldn't share with anyone but him. Because they went through it together.

All I want to know is whether my Catnip is still present or not, behind all the glitzy ceremonies and spotlight, somewhere within the celebrity who held hands with her star crossed lover. The boy with the bread who brings down the gliding bird to earth.

At least she's alive. She keeps her promise, though maybe the one making the promise is already gone. For all it's worth, someday I'll put an end to this madness so no one should go through this anymore. One day, for Katniss, for her family and mine, for citizen of the Districts. For now, I can only manage to welcome her, no longer able to know what is going on in her mind, her needs and wants.


End file.
